Seamus looked as much like a ghost to him as he did to Seamus. He took in the Chief’s face-framing red hair, vivid sorrel coat, and the tattoos that ran across his body. These were the features of the Chief Seamus he remembered, and yet, he couldn’t possibly imagine this as Chief Seamus.
The Chief Seamus he had known would have have abandoned Irichad’s loyal scouts to chilly deaths. The Chief Seamus he had known would never have let everyone believe that they were dead. The Chief Seamus he had known would never have hidden Lanseril’s body and buried him without a proper funeral gathering.
Was this even Chief Seamus? Or was this the ghost of the chief he had once known?
He didn’t have revolution on the mind, at least not yet.
Romie stared at the chief, confusion and anger flickering in his steely gaze. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze itself was asking a question. He wanted to know why. He wanted to understand.
Romie:
Seamus looked as much like a ghost to him as he did to Seamus. He took in the Chief’s face-framing red hair, vivid sorrel coat, and the tattoos that ran across his body. These were the features of the Chief Seamus he remembered, and yet, he couldn’t possibly imagine this as Chief Seamus.
The Chief Seamus he had known would have have abandoned Irichad’s loyal scouts to chilly deaths. The Chief Seamus he had known would never have let everyone believe that they were dead. The Chief Seamus he had known would never have hidden Lanseril’s body and buried him without a proper funeral gathering.
Was this even Chief Seamus? Or was this the ghost of the chief he had once known?
He didn’t have revolution on the mind, at least not yet.
Romie stared at the chief, confusion and anger flickering in his steely gaze. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze itself was asking a question. He wanted to know why. He wanted to understand.